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possible

This morning, I found myself searching for a word I couldn’t find, the ghost of yesterday’s mascara underneath my eyes. It is strange how some moments seem to count more than others, how a single feeling can stretch out for an eternity, encompassing everything that it touches. In that instance, all the words stop struggling; sentences are entirely rearranged, until idea of language becomes something else. Something tactile, something sacred. A science of atoms, splitting. The way the wind blows through a chime, music lingering the distance. The warm quiet of blankets first thing in the morning. A Sunday spent without obligation.

For this, there are no adjectives, only shadows of them. For this, there are no explanations, only the pale distance between breathes. All definitions have been rendered useless. All equations found perfectly solved. The key is a single word, polished like a diamond. It turns a lock. It slips a chain. It opens a door and shatters a window.

Sometimes, the things we let ourselves believe are the most dangerous. We place our faith in our hearts, not because it is easy or simple. It is because we realize the power in a single ripple, a star found in the sky, when everything has else has faded into the night. Ultimately, what we believe in is what we hold highest. And where there’s truth and trust, there is strength. There’s making the impossible, possible.

What is more miraculous than that?

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Categories: prose, Random Musings
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